


Not Fine

by BitterSnowflake



Category: Tom Hiddleston - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-22
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-14 00:21:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28912242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BitterSnowflake/pseuds/BitterSnowflake
Summary: WARNINGS: Mentions of rape (Tom is not the bad guy)
Relationships: Tom Hiddleston x Reader, Tom Hiddleston/Reader, Tom Hiddleston/You, tom hiddleston x you
Kudos: 20





	Not Fine

Dear Tom.

It’s me again. I was hoping you could give me some advice. Something happened at work the other day, and I don’t know what to do about it. Or even if I should do anything about it. I’m afraid I might lose my job if I tell anyone about what happened. But I trust you. He’s my boss and I told him no, but he wouldn’t listen. I tried to fight him off, but he was too strong. I called for help, but he muffled my screams with his hand. I cried, but he still wouldn’t stop.

I’m sorry for telling you this, Tom. I don’t want to burden you with this knowledge, but I really have no one else to turn to. What should I do? I really need to keep my job in order to be able to provide for myself. I can’t lose it now. But at the same time, I don’t want to go there anymore. I feel sick when I see him. I don’t want to report it, because I know I couldn’t stand being questioned about it. As you already know, I’m not from here, and I think that doesn’t speak in my favour on the job market. I need my job.

I’m sorry for rambling. I don’t know what I want to say with this. I suppose I just wanted to tell someone I trust about it. To get it out of my system. To be understood by someone. I’m not asking for your pity, just your understanding. I know I can get through this, but it’s rough. But you don’t need to worry about me, I can assure you. As always, it’s okay if you don’t answer this letter. I understand if you don’t have the time, or if you don’t know what to say. Even I wouldn’t know what to say to myself.

Take care, Tom.  
Sincerely, [your name].

You bit your lip as you skimmed through the letter you had just written to your neighbour Tom. After what happened at work, you felt further away from home than you ever had before. You felt so lonely, having no one nearby to talk to about this. You placed the handwritten letter in an envelope addressed to Tom and placed it in your pocket.

As usual, you had made some extra food for him when cooking dinner. You knew from previous conversation with him that he was working late a lot lately and that was often too tired to cook when he came home. He had also mentioned that he was sick and tired of takeaway food. That’s how you first got the idea to bring him food. He had been so appreciative when you first brought him food that you felt encouraged to keep doing it, assuring him that it really was no trouble. Which it wasn’t. You felt more motivated to cook now that you weren’t just cooking for yourself. Tom had offered to pay for the food, but you had refused to take his money when he time and time again attempted to give you money for your cooking.

You felt a bit emotional as you went across the hall to hand him the pasta carbonara and hesitated for a moment before ringing the doorbell. You knew he was home, because you had heard him talking to his dog just ten minutes ago.

“[Your name],” Tom said, greeting you with a smile as he opened the door for you. “Please, come in,” he added and stepped aside while holding back Bobby who was wagging his tail at the sight of you.

“I made too much pasta carbonara, so I was wondering if you would like some,” you told him, blushing slightly as you held out the food towards him after stepping inside his apartment. He gladly accepted the food from your hands and placed it on top of a drawer and turned to look at you.

“Thank you so much, you’re a lifesaver,” he said appreciatively, causing you to blush even more. “Are you sure you don’t want anything for it? I’m more than happy to pay. Please, let me at least pay for the ingredients,” he said, pulling out his wallet. You shook your head at him in response. This was when you usually said you had to leave. For some reason, it was difficult for you to keep a conversation going with Tom. You felt so painfully shy around him. That’s why you wrote him letters. He always responded to them and it felt like you had gotten to know each other pretty well, even though you never exchanged more than a few words when standing face to face with each other.

“I really need to go,” you told him as you refused to take the money he held out towards you. “You really don’t have to pay for the food. I’m just glad I don’t have to throw it away,” you insisted and pulled out the letter you had just written for him. You hesitated briefly before gathering the courage of handing it to him. “Bye, Tom,” you said and headed out the door before he had a chance to object to you leaving. He always invited you inside his home whenever you came over, but you never stayed for long because you felt too shy and didn’t want to bother him.

You sighed heavily as you slumped down on your couch, pulling a blanket on top of you in front of the TV. You couldn’t concentrate on the series you tried to watch, worrying too much about how Tom would react to the letter you had just given him. Part of you wanted to run back over to him and take the letter back before he had the chance to read it, but the fear of making a fool of yourself kept you at bay. You couldn’t just take back a letter like that.

Tears filled your eyes as you thought about your current situation. You really didn’t want to go to work in the morning, but you knew that you had to in order to be able to afford living there. You really loved the apartment, but the best part about living there wasn’t the apartment itself, but rather the person who lived across the hall from you. You were head over heels for Tom. You hadn’t told him yet, but surely he must have been figuring it out by now.

You were interrupted in your thoughts by the sound of the doorbell ringing and automatically went to open the door, without considering who it might have been at this late hour. Your mouth fell slightly open in surprise as you saw Tom standing there with a concerned look on his handsome face and your letter in his hand.

“[Your name], are you alright?” he asked you earnestly.

“I’m fine,” you assured him, fighting back the tears that had been threatening to break out all day. “I’m fine,” you repeated, this time talking to yourself. That’s what you had been telling yourself ever since the incident at work, that you were fine. Even though you were not. Tom stepped inside your apartment, carefully shutting the door behind him to give you some privacy from eventual neighbours passing in by in the stairwell.

“I don’t believe you,” he said with a frown. “How can you possibly be fine after something like this.”

“Because I can’t afford not to be,” you told him honestly as tears finally made their ways down your cheeks.

“I’ll hire you. You can’t go back to work after what happened. I’ll pay you as much as you need. You can keep cooking for me, and perhaps take Bobby out for walks every now and then if you want to. He seems to like you,” Tom told you ardently. “Please, say yes.”

“I…” You didn’t know what to say. The tears just kept running down your face and you began to sob. You felt concerned about Tom; he was being too kind for his own good. He was bound to get used by someone if he was this nice to everyone. You would feel like you were using him if you said yes to his offer. “I couldn’t possibly say yes. I don’t want to use you,” you finally told him honestly.

“Be my assistant, that’s a real job. To judge from your letters, you know how to express yourself in writing, and that’s exactly what I want,” Tom insisted. “Please, [your name]. At least think about it. You shouldn’t feel like you have to go back to work after what happened there. It breaks my heart to know what happened to you. You’re so kind-hearted and sweet. I don’t understand how anyone could hurt you like that.”

“It feels like it’s somehow my fault it happened,” you admitted.

“But it wasn’t, [your name]. It wasn’t your fault. It was his fault. You did everything right and he did everything wrong. You couldn’t have been more clear with him. He should have listened to you,” Tom told you seriously. “It was not your fault. And you are not fine. But you’re going to be. I’m going to help you through this, [your name].”

“Thank you, Tom,” you told him through your tears and hugged him. He hugged you back and for the first time since the rape, you felt truly safe. He wouldn’t let anything bad happen to you. With him by your side, you were going to be fine.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
